


goodbye, god

by aetherae



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Gen, who doesn't enjoy a good bad end au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 03:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5990275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aetherae/pseuds/aetherae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans and malevolence go hand in hand. Alisha is no different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	goodbye, god

**Author's Note:**

> if you know me, you know i love a good bad end au. title from 'free quiet' by school food punishment which turned out to be more or less the theme song for this fic.

Under the bright sunlight and beneath Marlind’s Great Tree, Alisha parts ways with Sorey. Before her own two eyes, the Seraphim fade from her vision as Lailah ends their contract, and she returns to being just a regular human. A princess perhaps, a knight maybe, but no longer a Squire.

It’d be a lie if she said it didn’t hurt, but that can’t matter. Not when she knows that by leaving, Sorey can explore the world he’s so desperately curious about with clear eyes and clearer vision. No matter how much she wishes to stay with them, she can’t. That’s simply the way of things.

(Just like she isn’t good enough to be a proper princess, just like she isn’t good enough to be a strong knight, she isn’t good enough to be a true Squire. That’s simply the way of things.)

When she walks away from them and heads down her own path, Alisha walks with a smile.

(She walks alone.)

●

Life goes on. The people of Marlind heal slowly but surely, and soon she returns to Ladylake. Even there, they’re glad to hear of the other town’s recovery, and with the blessing in place, she hears many saying they feel better than ever, confidently attributing it to the appearance of the Shepherd there. She couldn’t agree more.

When they ask her why he hasn’t returned with her though, she doesn’t know what to say.

Many are understanding, especially the townspeople. “The princess has her duty to the government and army, but the Shepherd is for the people! It can’t be helped that he would see to other towns and places when Lady Alisha is needed back home! Surely he will come again soon enough, maybe once there are more believers! It’s always a joy to see the princess return home regardless!”

Alisha is ever grateful for them, for their belief in not only Sorey, but also in her. She knows that she can’t disappoint them. (She fears what might happen if she does.)

But there are others, especially the nobility, who are less so, laughing where they pretend she can’t hear but know she will surely hear. “Maybe that Shepherd just grew tired of our dear princess and left her! He’s the Shepherd after all, surely he has more important business than answering to one little girl! I know I would grow tired of hearing her incessant complaints too! If only we could get rid of her burden as easily as the Shepherd did!”

They don’t bother her. They _can’t_ bother her. Their disdain for her is the same as it was ever since she was a child; there’s no use in letting it bother her now. (But that’s why it does. Years of doubt, years of mockery, years and years and years worth of derision only continues to pile up. It’s impossible to avoid such concentrated disapproval.)

She left in order to not be a burden to Sorey and the others. She refuses to be a burden to them here, too.

When Bartlow imprisons her, she nearly screams. It’s all too easy to see the game they’re playing, how they’ll bargain for the power of the Shepherd with her safety. Alisha swears over and over that when she gets out (because she will, because Sorey would refuse to leave her at risk even when he should, and this would be all her fault, _is_ all her fault) she’ll never let something like this happen again. She won’t burden them when they have so much more important things to be doing than playing pawn to the Hyland government.

She can’t.

●

The next time she sees them, he’s found a new Squire. Rose. From the bottom of her heart, she’s grateful. She prays that Rose will be able to aid him where she could not.

They tell her of what they’ve done so far, of where they’ve been. Lastonbell, the City of Artisans. Pendrago, the Blessed Capital. She’s only imagined what it would be like to walk through the Meadow of Triumph or Pearloats Pasture, places she’s only read in books and heard in stories. Once, as a child, she fancied traveling the continent, exploring the unknown and seeing places of legend as recorded. Now, as a knight of Hyland, as the princess of the kingdom, she knows she’ll never take even a single step outside Glaivend Basin.

It would be a lie if she said she wasn’t envious. A soldier calls for her, and the Shepherd and his new (only) Squire have their own business to attend to. As much as she wants to keep trading stories with them (as much as she wants to _go_ with them), she can’t. She says her goodbyes and turns before she can watch them leave.

Their paths are separate ones, perhaps briefly crossing at times, but different ones all the same. She’s made her decision; she can’t afford to regret it now.

(But she wonders why this had to be her decision, why she couldn’t join them once more. It pains her to think that despite seeing the seraphim so easily once, so naturally just a short time ago, as she spoke with Sorey and Rose, she wouldn’t have noticed one of them even if they shouted in her face. She wants to hear Lailah’s jokes again, to learn history from Mikleo again, to hear about silly dances from Edna again. She wants to know if anyone else has joined them, if they met any other seraphim.

Alisha wants these, but she will not have them. That much, she knows.)

●

The more time passes, the harder she tries. Investigating suspicious activities, pushing for peace instead of war, spreading the message of the seraphim and their blessing. She tries as hard as she can to pursue her own dream, just as she promised.

None of them work out.

Suspicious activities are covert operations no one chose (wanted) to inform her of. She blows the lid on more politicians and soldiers, people whose missions were critical for Hyland’s prosperity, than she cant count. She bows her head to the council more times than she can count. (All because they wouldn’t tell her. All because they _wanted_ her to act out of turn, an excuse to vilify her as much as they possibly could. She can see it in their sneers, their half-hearted reprimands, hear it in the laughter they don’t bother to hide.)

No one wants to hear of peace. Not the council, not the knights, and not a good number of the citizens either. Rolance has it coming, they tell her. War will make a profit, they tell her. (They don’t tell her about the soldiers who will die for a worthless cause, the citizens who will perish for the squabble of two countries.)

There are even less who want to hear of the seraph’s blessing. A blessing wouldn’t cure their illness. A blessing wouldn’t find them a job. A blessing wouldn’t give an education to their children. A blessing wouldn’t save them from poverty. (A blessing wouldn’t be able to do anything for them if they were too malevolent to receive it.)

Everyone loves to speak with her about the Shepherd though. Of how the Shepherd freed the Rolance church from corruption, or how the Shepherd stopped the endless rain in Pendrago. They’ve all heard tale of the Shepherd and his deeds, and they all ask her, the princess who is _such_ good friends with him, what she knows of his adventures out in the empire. Some are earnest. Some are not.

Sorey’s success inspires her more than anything else, and with each new tale she hears of him, she knows he is the Shepherd she always knew he would be.

Alisha wants to be the knight he always thought her to be. No matter the failure, she begins each day anew, vowing to try harder, to get that much closer to her dream.

(She begins each day anew only to find yet another of her efforts falling through.)

●

When not sent out or summoned for meetings, Alisha spends her time more often than not at Ladylake’s sanctuary. Even if she can no longer see Uno himself, being there reminds her of the good she’s done for her home. How she helped bring back the seraph’s blessing to Ladylake. So many of her own plans and efforts may have fallen through, but this place alone stands as proof of her success.

(Perhaps her only success.)

“Are you well, Princess?” Father Breunor asks her one day, brow furrowed. His age seems to show more than ever. “I’m glad to see you come by often, but each time you come, you look more tired than before.”

She laughs lightly and easily, the sound natural (practiced) in her ears. “You worry too much, Father. I’m fine, I assure you.”

He nods, relieved. She doesn’t see Uno behind him, or how he frowns. “If you insist, I’m glad to hear it. But I know how the chancellors trouble you so, and Lady Maltran is so busy these days… Please, if you ever need someone to confide in, I shall always be here waiting with open ears.”

“I shall take that to heart. Thank you.” Alisha appreciates his offer, she really does. But the man has enough troubles of his own simply dealing with the less savory priests, or convincing the townspeople to believe and have faith again. She won’t add onto his burdens by pulling him away just to let out her minor complaints.

(Honestly, she’s not even sure she knows _how_. Just as she doesn’t know that as Uno stands by them, listening and watching and frown ever deepening, he gives his own specific blessing to her right there in the sanctuary.

She doesn’t feel it.)

●

The times she sees Sorey and Rose are few and far in between, but tales of their deeds only ever keep on growing. The kind-hearted Shepherd and his shrewd but skilled Squire, saving the people from each other and themselves with perhaps the aid of the seraphim. If ever she hears someone speaking with sincere belief in them, it’s because of the feats that the two achieved that surely could have only been done with the mysterious seraphim’s power. She can easily imagine the two of them running through both Hyland and Rolance, the seraphim struggling to keep up with their human pace despite dwelling in them, sharing stories and eating meals together as they explore the entire continent.

It sounds fun.

With either no one but herself in her mansion or surrounded by people who _need_ her but don’t _know_ her during her meals, Alisha briefly thinks it would be nice to have fun again. The closest she’s had to fun these days is when Maltran is back from an assignment and able to spar with her.

But there’s no time to have fun, no time to even talk, not when there’s so much that needs to be done and done soon. It’s not until after one of her rare chances to spar with her mentor that she sees the Shepherd and his Squire again, their faces changing when they see Maltran leave.

“Is something wrong? Your expressions are rather odd,” she says lightly, laughing, but Rose heaves a sigh as she folds her arms.

“Listen, Alisha. It’s about M—”

“No, it’s nothing!” Sorey yells as he barges in front of Rose, laughing stiffly and awkwardly no matter how he tries to hide it. “We just wanted to check up on you! Right, Rose?”

He looks back at her, and she at him. Alisha can feel the pause palpable in the air until Rose smiles easily, a natural laugh compared to Sorey’s forced one. “Yeah, that’s right! Sorey here’s been wanting to catch up with you for _ever_ now, and I was getting tired of hearing it! So, what’ve you been up to?”

“I wanna hear all about it,” Sorey says, as genuine and earnest as ever. “So do all the others, too! It’s been a while since we’ve last seen you and all.”

And that’s that. They catch up, they talk (even if she has little good to catch them up on), and it’s fun. More fun than she remembers having in ages, even compared to her spares. Her heart beats just a little heavier in her chest than usual when she watches them leave, and she thinks about how much fun it would be to talk to them like this everyday as if it was normal.

(She doesn’t think about what they didn’t talk to her about, what they knew themselves but refused to tell her of. _Chose_ not to tell her of, just like the chancellors at every opportunity they had. The only difference was that they chose to leave her ignorant to thwart her whenever they could; Sorey and Rose weren’t like that. Still, they chose to leave her in ignorance. Was it something only the Shepherd and the Squire could be privy to?

Did they not trust her?

Was that why she saw so little of them?)

●

There are days where Alisha wakes up, opens her eyes, and doesn’t understand why she did.

The demands from both the government and the people are ever increasing. Send this message. Organize this platoon. See to this repair. Investigate this crime. Find these lost traders. Attend this ceremony. Come to this meeting. Arrest the culprits. Help this family. Stop the war. Start the war. Save them.

It’s so much, she almost thinks it’s too much. (It is too much, it’s far too much, she doesn’t know how she could hope to answer to many.) No matter how much it comes to be though, she can’t leave them. Neither of them. They _need_ her, and she cannot abandon that need.

(No matter if the government wants her or not. No matter if the people help her or not. They both rely on her, but could she ever rely on either of them? Of course not. The very idea is absurd. What did either of them ever do for her? How much of her blood and tears would they demand before they were finally satisfied? It would never be enough. They would rely on her, need her, _use_ her until the end of her days.)

When she wakes up, it’ll be the same. She’ll try her hardest. It won’t be enough. She’ll cry out her frustrations to a pillow, a training dummy, a servant. It won’t make a difference. She’ll go to bed, wake up, and start the next day after that. (The same day after that.)

Alisha wakes up, opens her eyes, and closes her eyes again.

●

She’s locked herself in her manor when she sees them again.

Knights have been pounding on her door for days to deliver the letter, to start the war. For all her efforts, for all her pleas, her government personally chooses _her_ to go to war. (Her king, her _father_ chose to ignore everything she ever did and favored war instead.) They choose _her_ to give the order that would sign countless people, both soldiers and citizens alike, to their deaths. Alisha remembers Lailah’s words, even now, “ _to show gratitude to all things_.” She reminds herself of them constantly, but in her heart, she fears that she doesn’t truly feel it.

(From the very bottom of her heart, she doesn’t. How could she? What was there to show gratitude to? Her government who’d turned its back on not only the people but her as well? Her friends who only served as a reminder for how little progress she’d made in comparison to them? Her own self, as weak and powerless as she was? What could she show gratitude towards? What could she be thankful for?)

The letter is worn and crumpled in her hand as she looks out the window to find Sorey instead of the knights outside her door. She runs out, her steps lighter than they’ve felt in months. Surely Sorey could prevent this war, surely they’d be willing to listen to the Shepherd, surely he could _save her_ —

The seraphim appear before her eyes before she realizes it. While the others greet her, she makes out the sound of a gasp, quiet and startled. When she looks up at Lailah, the woman keeps her mouth firmly shut, and she won’t look her in the eyes again. It makes something in the pit of her stomach weigh uncomfortably; she wonders what it is that fire seraph sees.

There’s no time to think on it when they tell her what they’re there for. That Maltran is a hellion, that she serves the Lord of Calamity, that she’s the one most hellbent on having war. (That the woman who taught her everything only ever wanted to lead her astray, that the person who practically raised her has never once cared for her.) Alisha closes her eyes, tries to pretend that she can’t hear them (that she can’t hear reality), but all she can think is that she doesn’t want to know.

“That can’t be true!” It can’t be. “Don’t you even dare joke about such a thing!” But they wouldn’t joke about it. They wouldn’t lie to her. “No… Lady Maltran… She always encouraged me, even when…” Even when the rest of the nobility practically spat in her face, it was Maltran who told her to get back up. Again. And again. Was that smile when she spoke of standing strong, of never giving up, one of kindness or of derision?

They ask her to help her stop the knight general. She agrees.

“Sorey needs you. Nothing will change that,” Mikleo tells her as they make their preparations. When she finishes sharpening the blade of her spear, she sees her face reflected back up at her from the blade. Her eyes look dull.

_Then why wasn’t I able to travel with him?_ Lailah glances her way. She squashes the thought. “… Okay.”

They make their way to the camp in silence. The others try to fill her in on what’s happened in the meantime, their newest companion Zaveid saying something about her “scrunched up face” more often than not, but try as she might, she can’t hear it. She can’t make herself focus on the words, not from him or any of other others. They’ve traveled half a day before she hears someone clearly again.

“… I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, Alisha.” She turns to look at Sorey, looks at his eyes cast down and mouth grimacing. She doesn’t like it. What kind of Squire would do this to their Shepherd? (How many times will she burden him like this?)

“It’s alright. You were only keeping it secret for my own good. It’s understandable.” Alisha smiles at him like she always does, and just like that Sorey lightens as if shrugging off a weight. This is how it should be. This is right.

(But it’s not understandable. She doesn’t understand. Why couldn’t they tell her? Was it really that much better to keep her in the dark? They were her friends, _Sorey is her friend_ , why didn’t they trust her enough to hear the truth? This isn’t how it should be, _this isn’t right_.)

As they continue on to stop the war, to stop Maltran, she wonders if they even can. She has no power. The others might have been with her now, but it was only temporary. Once this was done and taken care of, they’d be onto the next problem. She wouldn’t have any of them. If she didn’t even have Maltran, the _only_ source of constant support she has ever had in her life, then she would have—

What _does_ she have?

●

Maltran leads them to the forest. What the others told her is true. Alisha pales and grows paler with every step until she feels a hand gently take her by the arm. When she turns, she finds Lailah’s face set in worry and concern (and fear).

“Alisha,” she says, voice soft as the others slowly continue on ahead of them. Lailah is so gentle, as if she’s holding something so delicate, so fragile. As always, she is kind. (She wants to snatch her arm away.) “No matter what happens next, you must do your best to stay calm. We, all of us, are here for you. So please, try to stay calm.”

Faced with the betrayal of the person who was almost like a mother to her, she doesn’t understand how Lailah could possibly ask her of this. But still, the words come tumbling out (hollow), almost automatically, “I know. I’ll try my best to.”

It’s all she’s ever done. (It’s never been enough.)

In the same clearing where Sorey nearly died because of the blindness she caused, Alisha watches as her mentor summons a black, pulsating spear with inhuman magic. Maltran points her blade at them. Still, she doesn’t understand what’s happening right in front of her. (She chooses not to.)

“Let’s be quick about this. I have other work to attend to.”

Her stomach lurches, and her heart pounds too quickly, too hard. She thinks she might vomit. “Why, Lady Maltran? Why?!”

Maltran scoffs, and that’s when Alisa knows, feels it in the very marrow of her bones. She couldn’t run from this, not even if she wanted to. (She wants to. If she had the strength, she’d sprint out of forest without a second thought. If she was that weak, she’d pass out right here, right now without a shred of regret. She simply doesn’t have enough of either.) Condemned to see this, she stands there.

“What you see before you is reality and truth. One who cannot accept reality for what it is has no hope of being a leader to the people!”

(Can she be a leader to the people? Does she even _want_ to? To have all the hopes and dreams of a thousand people pinned on her, made her responsibility, when she couldn’t even make her own come true? To be a leader to them when not a single one would listen to her, know her, _help_ her?

Why did she ever want to be a leader?)

“I—” _Don’t want to be a leader_. “I acknowledge my lack of resolve. But…”

“Then you should have realized by now that your naive ideals have no meaning whatsoever in this present state of affairs.” She does realize that. Alisha doesn’t know when, but now, she doesn’t know how she ever knew anything else. (But if she doesn’t have this, doesn’t cling to her ideals, then—) “Not to the kingdom, not to the citizenry. Certainly not to me. Your incessant whining was just the thing to provoke Bartlow and the others into action against Rolance.”

“Alisha’s ideals _do_ hold meaning and value!”

Sorey’s shout startles her out of her thoughts, and she hears Mikleo saying, “That’s right. Sorey believes in her, even if you don’t.”

Yes, that’s right. It really _is_ right. No matter what, no matter who, even if no one else believed in her (even if she didn’t believe in herself), Sorey and the others have always believed in her, always trusted her. She believes in them, and they believe in her, and if nothing else, they’ve always been there for her (they haven’t) when she needed them (she always needed them).

Maltran barks a laugh. “Do you really think so?”

“Just what are you getting at?” Edna asks, voice tight.

“Alisha, do you understand?” She looks on at her former master mutely. Maltran heaves a sigh. “You are disgracefully slow. But, as your mentor, I shall impart upon you one last gift.”

The knight’s posture relaxes, straightening from one of battle as she lifts her spear with one hand and points directly at Sorey. A challenger who knows they are right. “They’ve known for a long while now just what I am. Yet they never stopped to tell you. Why is that? It is because they knew you were _weak_! The Shepherd never once believed you even had the strength to withstand the truth about me!”

Alisha’s grip on her spear slackens. She looks up at Sorey, at the Shepherd, at her friend.

“Sorey. Is that what you and Rose chose not to tell me the other day?”

(It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true. It’s not true.)

“No, I—”

It’s true.

The ground swallows up her vision. She can’t feel her legs. Something metal clangs viciously against the earth. It’s so loud she thinks her ears might burst. Alisha’s sure her heart already has.

Maltran laughs. She laughs, and she laughs, and she laughs, and Alisha can’t get it out of her head. “I must thank you, Shepherd! Not even _I_ could have done as splendid a job as you have in breaking Alisha!”

Her fingers claw scars into the dirt, and she grips her spear anew. “SHUT _UP_.”

“Hey, princess, you can’t be serious?!”

“Snap out of it!”

“Please, you must reconsider! If you don’t, the malevolence will—”

“You have to calm down, please! Alisha!”

“Alisha, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but _please_ , listen to us—!”

She leaps, and in one fluid motion, she sinks her spear straight through Maltran’s chest.

There’s no surprise. Just satisfaction. A laugh bubbles up through the blood dripping down the woman’s mouth, and she reaches to stroke Alisha’s face, almost tenderly, motherly. Her smile is far too kind for someone she’s killing.

“ _This_ is reality, Alisha. Well done.”

The princess knight pulls out her spear smoothly, with all the grace her former mentor taught her, and flicks off the purple blood from her blade. She watches as Maltran falls backwards. There is nothing left as the Blue Valkyrie burns into black ashes.

She has no power. The others were never truly her friends, never trusted her enough to be one. By her own two hands, Maltran was no more. Then, the only thing she had left was—

Nothing.

Something _breaks_ , and Alisha feels—different. She sees Sorey’s and the other’s eyes widen, their mouths forming words, but she can’t hear them past the deafening roar of wind. Her heart beats heavy in her chest, a stone instead of a muscle, yet her body feels lighter. Faster. She thinks there must be feathers brushing against her back, and when she opens her eyes, everything looks dimmer, blacker, as if looking through a helmet. Was the world always this dark? She can’t remember anymore. What she does recall, somewhere far away in the back of her mind, is the word _valkyrie_.

Perhaps there was a hellion with that name.

●

Alisha doesn’t remember much after that.

When she opens her eyes again, the world is still dark, but all she can see is the green of Sorey’s eyes. They’re brighter than anything else, too bright. She almost can’t bear to look at them. She’s so _tired_.

“—lisha. Can you hear me? You have to let go.”

Let go? Of what? She doesn’t know where her spear went, and when she lifts her hands, there’s nothing in them, nothing save for purple stains. She wonders what it’s from. There was a moment where they caught her off guard, where she was distracted by a water snake, her only option left to defend against Sorey’s sword being her bare hand—oh.

“You have to let go of everything, okay? Or else I—” His voice cracks, and her heart aches. Still, it beats too heavily in her chest. “I can’t purify you. Please, you have to let go.”

“… I can’t.” The words come out slowly, every ounce of her strength pouring into just two syllables. She never knew how difficult it could be to simply speak. If only she realized sooner. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can! Everything will be fine, okay? It’ll be fine! Once I purify you, you can stop the war, and then you can negotiate peace with Rolance, and before you know it, just like you always dreamed of, Ladylake will be—”

“Sorey.” He stops, mouth frozen in a smile but eyes frozen in—fear. She’s sorry she can’t do anything to reassure him of those fears. But then again, she could never do much for him in the first place. “I can’t do this.”

“But… But you can! You can do this! You’re not alone, Alisha, we’ll all be here to help you!”

Alisha looks up at him, wordless, and she knows he knows. That she knows they won’t _really_ be here to help her. They couldn’t. Why help her when they still had to defeat the Lord of Calamity? What’s one girl compared to the rest of the world? There’s no choice, and she knows it. It was her own fault for relying too much on them, on him. It was always her own fault.

But that’s why she can’t.

“I’ve tried… So hard… For everyone… And what good did it do? What good did it do, Sorey?”

“That’s…”

He can’t answer her. None of them can answer her. That’s answer enough.

There’s something wet on her cheeks. It feels like rain, but warm. She gathers up all the strength she has left to focus, to really see, and she does. She sees Sorey crying.

She won’t do this to him anymore. This will be the last time.

Alisha smiles up at him, the only thing she could ever do for him. ‘Melphis Amekia.’ Alisha the Smiling.

“I won’t burden you anymore. I refuse to. Will you end this, Sorey?”

It’s too dark to see it, and she’s almost too tired to hear it, but she can tell. Sorey draws his sword. He’s still crying, and she’s still smiling, but even so he draws his sword. Even now, he is the Shepherd.

But her?

She’s done.

**Author's Note:**

> \- a valkyrie-type hellion. i forgot there even was one until i remembered the boss one in that hell dungeon in the alisha dlc, but yeah, that’s what alisha turns into. not as pure monster-looking as forton, but she’s not entirely humanoid like maltran either.  
> \- a woman dying to fuel a man’s character development is so overdone and boring, but i felt like if things had gone in a way similar to this, it at least would’ve given SOME kind of meaning to how much the story and game shits on her.  
> \- some of the dialogue is lifted straight from the game since… well, it IS an au of specific events. i still needed the dialogue of those specific events LOL  
> \- this was seriously a lot of fun to write LMFAO


End file.
